


Do it for Me

by orphan_account



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Dom/sub, Intersex, Light Bondage, Other, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-26
Updated: 2014-01-26
Packaged: 2018-01-10 02:35:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,569
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1153752
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You have asked Reiner to make you obey him and he has obeyed.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Do it for Me

**Author's Note:**

> this started as a drabble prompt from my friend but then oops. hope everybodys cool with cafab agender armin getting diddled a lot by reiner because its my new favorite thing

You have asked Reiner to make you obey him and he has obeyed.

You lie gagged and blindfolded in his bed, your wrists bound above your head with the belts from your own uniform, naked otherwise. Reiner looms over you. The last time you saw him, when he leaned in to tie the length of cloth around your eyes, he was fully clothed, and you know he still is—between toying with your nipples and spanking you red he couldn’t possibly have had time to manage anything but unbuttoning his pants.

“You sure squirm around a lot for someone who says they wanted this,” he says, low, leaning in toward your ear, making an event of preparing to enter you. The head of his cock is damp with oil, and so close. You savor the feeling. When he’d hesitated at your suggesting this idea earlier, you worried you’d never feel it. “You’re sure you still want to do this, Armin?”

When you nod, you take a wet breath in, the air tasting of cotton and, still, vaguely, Reiner’s tongue. Ever since the first time he kissed you with that tongue you wanted something like this. He couldn’t help overpowering you just a little; he could hold back his strength as much as he wanted, but he couldn’t hold back how much bigger than you he was. His hand encircled almost your entire skull, his lips captured yours, and when he pressed himself against you to push you backwards and bring the both of you to lie down on the bed you had to break off the kiss to reclaim your breath from his weight on your lungs.

He rendered you powerless. He stole your breath and yet you felt no shame and no danger. You knew you would never feel that sweet helplessness in the company of Eren or Mikasa, no matter how long you’ve known them. Only with Reiner, who protects you in the hopes that you may succeed, who accepts you and your body as they are, who loves you, whom you love. That night you found yourself comfortable with powerlessness, and ever since then, you’ve craved it. You need to be powerless here to diminish that discomfort you feel in the field just a little.

You nod again. An “mmm” goes with it. He breathes the kind of sigh that only comes from a smile.

He pushes the tip of his cock against your hole—not in, just against—and teases you in circles. The oil swishes about. It tickles. You squirm, whimpering through the damp cloth, twitching open and shut. Opening. Shutting. For Reiner.

“Are you as curious as I am,” he asks, “about what you’ll do if I go in?”

You open right up again. _Please God Reiner fuck me I need you_ , you wish you could beg. Instead a moan precipitates another nod, one that struggles amid a shiver in your spine.

“I should go in then, hmm?”

A final nod, your weakest all night. Yet as soon as you’re done, Reiner shows his impatience; he pushes his cock into you, giving head, shaft, and base equal time to enjoy the glide in. You recoil. As much as you’ve come to hunger for him, his initial entrance always surprises you. But the pain subsides, and your awe at his size goes from horror to remembered bliss. His hips crash into yours. He lingers long enough for you to wrap your legs around his body and link your ankles to hold him against you before he pulls out, pounds back into you, lets you wail into your gag, and begins the thrusting you need.

You can’t believe sex with Reiner ever worried you. You shiver, you tremble, but you do so pink-faced under your restraints, latched on, your body welcoming him. He is the one who stretched you, so of course he fills you perfectly. You wish only that your ass had the nerves you do elsewhere—you want to feel every inch of him from every angle, every vein, everything, as he fucks you so deeply you cry out for the sake of the feeling you could have, if only.

He runs one hand through your hair, freeing some strands from your blindfold. The other squeezes your thigh, then your chest, then your thigh again. His thumb is clammy from hovering so near the hot breath of your wetness. You are soaked.

Then his fingers crawl like a separate living thing to your sex. “Hmm?” he asks, and you nod again.

You nod, though you wish that the fingertips he traces between your folds could penetrate you there. But the two of you tried that when his cock wouldn’t fit. Nothing fits without pain completely abandoned by pleasure.

When he wraps his fingers around your stiff little nub, though, you forget that the touch is a runner-up.

You throw your head back. You grit your teeth, tasting the dry cotton fibers that happen to catch, and it stifles your cry. Each time your fingers flex, dreading the knowledge that they can’t grab Reiner, you long for a glimpse of his body. His broad, sturdy shoulders as he holds you. The way he hikes his shirt up to reveal his defined stomach, which moves as he rolls his hips to plow into you. His thin brows furrowing, for once, in pleasure. From his words you know the faces he is making.

“God. Armin. Fuck, you’re so tight, you’re doing so good, yeah, God, keep taking it, I love you, fuck, take it, stay open like that for me. You love my cock, huh.”

He is licking his lips, tasting you on them.

“God, I love you so much, Armin. I love you.”

He is clenching his jaw and then letting it hang slack.

“I love you.”

He is devouring you.

You think, I am nourishment.

You are so important, tied up there, belts chafing your wrists, legs wrapped around your boyfriend’s body, head tossed back between your bound arms. You own that piece of him inside you.

He says, “Fuck, Armin, come for me. Do it, I’m so close,” and in your head you answer, “Yes, yes, God, anything for you to fill me,” and the fact that you can’t only brings you to your plateau. His thrusts come quicker, harder, as if he’s searching for something inside you, and your breathing hitches each time his skin meets yours. He holds you by the hair. The way some lonely strands stick by way of his sweat makes you jolt whenever you move, and the jolts travel down to your thighs, where they collide with Reiner’s thrusts to jostle, in a distant way, against your nerves.

“Come for me, Armin,” he growls, but he groans, jerks, and comes so hard that you can feel wave after wave of warmth flood into you with each of his spasms, and by the time you come, too, you know he is pushing droplets of his seed out of you with each of his desperate, tired, completing thrusts. You shake all over. The gag catches your roaring moans but don’t, can’t, silence them. Then you miss his hand freeing you of the gag, but you know it must have happened, since you take a quick, shallow breath before he kisses you.

With a rasping sigh he collapses onto you. As you pant against each other, your sweat soaks his shirt, but you don’t think this is why he rolls just a bit to the side; Reiner, your protective, conscientious love, knows you can’t breathe with his weight on you. Though your thirst and your howl have left your voice dry, you whisper to him again and again, “I love you, Reiner, I love you,” and though his orgasm seems to have robbed his ability to speak, he kisses your face, your lips, your cheeks, even your eyelids and forehead after he removes the blindfold.

You both giggle with as much breath as you can afford when he finally remembers to pull out of you. When his cock leaves, rivulets of sperm trickle from your hole, and you wince against the tickle. If the two of you don’t bother to clean up, you can at least switch to your bed on the other side of the dormitory. You feel dirty thinking so, but it almost feels a shame to clean up the evidence that he’s been in you.

He rolls off of you entirely, save for his arm, which he drapes across your bare chest. “You all right?” he asks.

His eyes loll shut, and you smile. For a while you wondered whether you found him more attractive or more intimidating, but when you see him flushed and sleepy he becomes strangely adorable. “I will be if you promise we can do that again,” you reply, your voice shaky with fatigue and nerves.

Reiner chuckles, squeezes you. “Well,” he says. “You’re still tied up. Part of me says I could just keep you like that until morning…”

“We could do that,” you smirk, though the expression leaves your lips when you kiss his forehead. “I like that part of you.”

You like every part of him, of course. But your favorite is the part that tightens his grip on you, traces the outline of your body with his fingertips, leaves you fettered to the headboard, and takes your every suggestion.


End file.
